"We never do anything, James." Jack lay sprawled on the commodore's sofa, the midday sun playing off the empty rum bottle in his hand. He waved it as if he were illustrating a point.

James sighed. "Please, Jack. Let's not start that again."

He had not expected the anniversary of their first meeting to be spoiled like this, not on such a lovely Saturday afternoon. Of course, alcohol did have the unfortunate side effect of making people annoyingly maudlin... And they had started drinking far too early: it had begun with a toast or two at lunch, then snowballed after that, the way it usually did. Such was the curse of Jack's company.

But it was still bright out; too soon for brooding by any man's standards. "Look, why don't we just finish our drinks and move to the bedroom? I have—"

Jack shook his head. "No, James. This needs discussing. All we ever do is sit around here—or on the Pearl—and talk. Or drink... or do other things..." A quick smirk. "But we never do anything exceptional. Extraordinary."

James gave him a mocking look, taking another swig of his brandy. "Really, Jack. What do you want us to do? Travel the globe like newlyweds on their honeymoon? I think we're both a bit too old for silly romanticism."

"Silly or not, it would be a change, at least!" Sighing, he put down his empty bottle and got up to get another. "I'm bored. If you don' want me to go and stay gone this time, you'd best think of somethin'."

James raised an eyebrow. "Is that a threat?"

"Call it a warning."

"Jack..." he sighed again. "I should be offended. Does what we have mean so little to you?" No, he was not getting sentimental. He would not push this. He was drunk, and so was Jack, and they'd better just go to bed so they could do things that didn't require talking, providing less space for misunderstandings.

But Jack didn't seem inclined to go to bed just now. He swayed towards James and landed in his lap, his arms around the other man's neck as he placed a kiss on his cheek. "It means a lot and you know that. I'm just sayin'—"

James interrupted him, growing exasperated. "If it has escaped your notice, I'm still an officer in His Majesty's Navy and you're still a pirate. Nothing has changed—except maybe for the number of headhunters sailing from Nassau to Bridgetown and back again just to see you dead. As for myself, I'm supposed to arrest you at first sight, not take you out to fancy dinners or—"

A knock on the door made Jack jump out of James' lap and James swallow his further words. "Who is it?" the commodore asked cautiously.

"It's Joseph, sir," came the muffled voice of the manservant.

James breathed a sigh of relief. "Come in."

The door opened slowly as Joseph entered, discreetly ignoring everything that was going on in the room. "Begging your pardon, sir. A letter from England has just arrived for you." He handed it over and quickly left again.

James frowned. Despatches from the Admiralty? But they would hardly be delivered to his house. Mail from friends? But he barely had any left in England, now that he had been living in Jamaica for so long. His family's old friends only remembered him as a little boy, if at all, and they would much more likely write to his parents than to James himself.

He looked at the seal, thick and red, bearing the flower he would recognize amongst thousands. His frown deepened, thoughts running through his head.

It must be something serious. They would not—Please, don't let it be—

He shook his head, swallowed his worries down, tore the seal and opened the letter.

Jack didn't even try to get up and peer over James' shoulder. He had learned that this never worked. James was simply too tall, and when there was something he didn't want Jack to read, Jack had no chance. At least not in James' presence.

Suddenly, the commodore turned around, his face chalk-white.

Jack shuddered at the sight. It was bad news, that much was certain. But what could it be? The Navy finding out about James'... involvement with a pirate? Unlikely. Maybe a death in his family? Now that would explain it.

"James?" he inquired cautiously, giving him a worried look. "What is it, luv?"

James didn't answer. Instead he walked across the room and dropped the letter in Jack's lap with an angry growl. "There you are. Are you quite satisfied now?" With that he left, slamming the door.

Dumbfounded, Jack stared at the spot where James had stood just seconds ago. The sudden outburst seemed completely unlike him. What the blazes could have made him act this way?

Well, if he wanted answers, he'd better read that letter before James decided to take it away again.

He unfolded it and quickly scanned the page. There wasn't much time to read the whole thing, so he tried to pick out what seemed most important, his eyes dancing over the paper as he hummed and murmured to himself.

"Dearest James... blah, blah, blah," he mumbled, keeping track of the lines with his forefinger, "never tell us anything... mm-hm, tell me about it... heard from reliable sources... You do know dear Mrs. Bennett, she's living just next to you, is she not?... Dum-di-dum... boring, boring, bo—"

Suddenly, Jack stopped humming. "Now that is interesting," he mused, a wide grin spreading on his face as he read the lines aloud, as if to an audience, "...We are happily surprised to hear of your engagement. We trust it is a respectable and fine young woman, and we would be delighted to—"

He couldn't continue. Giggles had turned into roaring laughter while he was reading, and at this point, he was laughing so hard that tears were running down his cheeks.

So this was what it was going to be. The Something Extraordinary. The Something to change the monotony they had fallen into.

Meeting the Parents.